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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26834236">Don’t move!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mulberrywest/pseuds/Mulberrywest'>Mulberrywest</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Tooth-Rotting Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:00:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>167</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26834236</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mulberrywest/pseuds/Mulberrywest</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Striketober | Cormoran Strike Fictober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Don’t move!</h2></a>
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    <p>“Don’t move.”<br/>She shivered a little as he opened the door to the little kitchen, cold air drifting over her naked limbs. It took him a moment or two before he came back, during which time she heard drawers being opened and cupboards shut. She wound the sheet more tightly around herself, conscious suddenly of her nakedness. The effects of the whisky were wearing off and she felt panic rising in her chest, wondering whether he was starting to feel regret.<br/> “I need to ask you something,” he said softly, as he returned, his face serious, troubled. He perched on the bed, not quite touching her outstretched hand. She blinked, anxiety rising.<br/>“I know I don’t remotely deserve you but now you’re here I’m even starting to wonder if there is a fucking god, and I know this is premature but…” he produced a<br/>beautiful vintage art deco ring in a velvet lined box, “this was Leda’s. I’d like you to have it -  will you wear it?”</p>
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